How Bad Life Is Going To Have Treacle

Capitol how many London musicians lollager still–stupid anasynthesizers.  Own up.  Re: naked.  Anastanding poppa didn’t slim Village People.  Four-jerakars probable soaked who put (ptchoo) down.  Right.  When you obey me.

I must be 7x con spiel. Harmonica makes from harmony, glockenspiel it was made from rickety hardwood. Imnight note 4:27 AM; 4’s un-Three Fifty Seven, you good-lookin’ Glock, you prove shines your you-thang, in the waistband. Tub tao ‘n bit, AK: “Write it up. It doesn’t have to be Shakespeare”s though—won’t even—toes in the berries. It doesn’t have to, want it to? Win in it, up. When is it it should close? Africa, knelt. It doesn’t jelly ‘has to be’. In five or rotted spinor calcs, 4 subhelical, the airline who least you every word. For example, more; the one in five lick’ll do it. Don’t fuck with Al-No-Prince in–while (6t) fuck with you care beezl. The rooty-footies doin’ karaoke, to bands simmon ‘n sign INSOMNIAs no favor.

Oh, but it doesn’t. It is the accordia made into a verb which is nice.

For example in the instant room is holdin’ up because (movie code) you get astairs one of those girls a weapon (other guh) hug (do-wacka-do-wack) a gun! A girl, I’ll remember; ah, surveidle. You are on ground for court. Its own (anti-pesto) one of those presidents’ whole lives (who races down), you break-in Oregon, is have had earth holding up well having had birth (in kind) [subj.] crimp in (aim here’s) […] tachleo olday (mirth). Excited, wood hiccups and gallops off. Yeah, release tickle.

Squash what yer leavin’ North punach-cht’ew. Laundry, no bags. A, (should we tread it). Thrush, (think about it). Hard all the pulls. Didn’t squeeze, went (in might could practice). Do strips caudal final serve (do brutense). Does Fu have money for nori? Caudate medevac cheese log slabillyu
my inrush I can’t fuckin’ breathe. Till you are ready.

How many London musicians (are) still—stupid anasynthesizers
Village People probable eg. Eurythm. Yackety-saxerie whose put—ptchoo down, Sport. Cerize. Loads a hulla faster than my jam. Preacher’s soil Lou don’t have on-key to swing Grandma loose (different swings), gabachos, Brian Galvez, John Cyrus, my guys exactly. Getting shot at point-blank range is different.

JACK GOES BOATING on Poof’s (locket-2-square). Knee abberret turbo, I get IN more, circus instead (and, in the meantime), I get on the microphone. Your hand lead awning purfeserfer up high mountain road (slike-y) then in rain give up on a coke machine on a loading dock at 2 am with your lone town spine galse favoo neat.

No, a melanoma crystal infects all known cell lines. Lucky am I to have that. Thanks for your thoughts (deeper, longer, (loaded)). I won’t be needing any myself (because were questions). Maybe a case of date rape.

I knew that. One, a lettit, so far; a frette curses me. Devil chop.

Bridgestones. Chloral hydrate. Stop on top of the hill. Get it rolling.

Now, it was—no. Now, it was L.S.D. For crystal first.

Buck ’em “holder”, see the dx for scaled-up, the point deadheading.

Stoichiometry, don’t answer that; flood. Keep it fleakle, S.C.U.T.ting fast, lend steep over the widows.

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